


When a Cigar is Not a Cigar

by ijemanja



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-21
Updated: 2010-03-21
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1930704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijemanja/pseuds/ijemanja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parker, Tara, and metaphors. A kinkmeme ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When a Cigar is Not a Cigar

Parker came back from the bathroom and hopped back on the bed where Tara was lazily reclining against the headboard. She straddled her legs, settling with her ass on Tara's thighs. Neither of them had put back on any of their clothes yet, Parker because it was more convenient this way, Tara because she was apparently busy.

"It's a non-smoking room," Parker said.

"Isn't this where you live?" Tara replied, looking only mildly interested in the answer.

"Sort of. So what?"

"Don't worry, I don't smoke except after sex. And money transfers."

"So you always do this after sex? Because we're not finished yet." She frowned. "Or are we?" She hoped not, otherwise she was sitting here all naked and ready for nothing.

Tara just shrugged, and turned her hand around, holding the cigarette out for Parker. "Try it."

Parker leaned forward and sucked on it a few times, blowing the smoke back in Tara's direction. She sat back on her heels, her nose wrinkling. "I just don't get what the point is if it gives you bad breath and you don't even get high. It smells like Eliot's socks."

Tara shrugged again and finished the cigarette off herself. Parker watched, playing with herself idly, fingers circling her clit. Maybe it was symbolic, she thought. She'd learned about symbolism from Sophie, that it wasn't always about the thing itself but what the thing represented. Like Tara. Tara showing up to work with the team meant Sophie hadn't forgotten about them, that she wanted them to be okay.

Her head to one side, she considered. "It's like a teeny tiny metaphorical penis."

Tara's mouth opened. She closed it again, and reached over to drop the cigarette butt in the water glass she'd been using as an ashtray. "You're right, that's exactly what it's like."

Tara being here in bed with her meant something else. Tara sitting under her all naked and still a little sweaty from before, her hair all messed up, Tara's lips closing around the tip of a cigarette held carelessly between two fingers - almost everything came down to sex or money, or both, that was something Parker figured out ages ago, all on her own.

The last of the smoke curled up around the ceiling as Tara moved her hand between Parker's thighs. Her fingers slid past Parker's, still working her clit, and pushed up inside her. Tara's other hand moved around Parker's neck and drew her forward to kiss her, and Parker let her because she liked kissing, mostly, though there was the whole sweaty-sock-breath issue now and other things were just better, like Tara's fingers and the way they were curling inside her.

She pulled back from the kiss and spent a little time petting Tara's breasts. "Want me to go down on you again?" she asked, rocking her hips as Tara added another finger.

Tara laughed a little, raising an eyebrow. "Sure. Want me to go down on you first?"

"Okay." Like she was going to say no. She started to clamber off Tara's lap to one side. "But keep your fingers in me. And do it harder."

She lay down on her back with her head hanging off the side of the bed and brought her hands to her chest, rolling her nipples into tight little buds, pinching till it was almost painful. Tara shifted around between her splayed thighs and then the fingers slipped back into her and Tara's tongue pressed down on her clit.

She started thinking about Tara's mouth while she was getting off, her wide lips and the way she always smiled with her teeth. The way her lips closed around the cigarette. The way they were closed over her clit right now. It tasted like smoke when they kissed and it was kind of disgusting and kind of hot and she almost wanted to be kissing Tara again, but not as much as she didn't want her to stop what she was doing. Her hips pressed up into Tara's face as Tara licked her over and over and her fingers stretched her just enough. She bit her lip through it, shuddering quietly as she came.

She didn't make a lot of noise usually. Unlike Tara, who moaned a lot and said things like "oh god, fuck yes Parker yes just like that" and when she came kind of sounded like she was in one of the many, many porn videos Hardison kept stored on his computer, protected by a password he didn't think anybody knew. Some of which were pretty good, some of which were hilarious, and some of which she really didn't get at all and which no one would explain when she asked. Although Nate had yelled at Hardison for a while. And then they'd been back to hilarious again.

She raised her head from between Tara's thighs and looked up Tara's body to see her shake out her hair and run her fingers through it. "Damn," Tara said, her smile wide, "you are good at that."

"Do you watch a lot of porn?"

Tara raised an eyebrow. "Why, did you have something in mind?"

"No, it was just a question." Parker backed away from her and hopped off the bed. Before she started getting dressed, she took a cigarette from the pack on the nightstand and lit it, liking the way it tingled in her nose as she breathed out. She passed the little penis over to Tara. "Here."

Tara was sitting on the edge of the bed, hooking her panties up with her big toe, but she took it. "You don't mind?"

"We're finished now." Besides, everything already smelled like smoke.


End file.
